


Lasting Treasure

by araliya



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 16:23:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13767933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/araliya/pseuds/araliya
Summary: Fluff, buckets of it.





	Lasting Treasure

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a Dream Prompt of Lynne’s. Title and lyrics from Carole King’s Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow.

The little lights that line the staircase are automatic.

  


One glows above each step, lighting up with every footfall. Darren watches them become extinguished one by one, expertly dodging the one bit of the landing that tends to creak a little.

  


It’s late, as it usually is when he comes back from an event. Once again, of course, without his husband. Darren takes a little consolation in the fact that even if it  _were_  possible for Chris accompany him, he probably wouldn’t anyway, much rather preferring to stay at home with the pets.

  


Chris only goes out if it’s to support a friend or a cause he’s passionate about. Darren can’t keep count of the amount of times he’s wished he had that much freedom- that much leeway to show how he  _truly_  feels about things.

  


The lights are off in the bedroom but the blinds are still open and the window left slightly ajar. It lets in an icy cool breeze, prickling right through Darren’s suit jacket down to his skin.

  


Immediately his eyes seek out Chris, and they zone into a husband-shaped bundle in the middle of the bed. From afar, all he can see is a splash of chestnut against the pillow, and as he nears, he can map out the slope of Chris’ nose, curving down into rosy lips and diverging up into fanning lashes.

  


“Sweetheart, it’s  _freezing_ ,” he chastises quietly, pulling the window shut with a soft  _click_. Chris doesn’t stir, and Darren knows he’s had another of his headaches- the ones that make him restless and overheated, and usually end up with a generous dose of Lunesta.

  


The bed dips slightly as Darren perches on the edge, close enough that he can see the little crease between Chris’ brows. He reaches out to smooth it, fingers tickled by the soft hair falling over his forehead.

  


A melody that’s been floating through his head for the past few days surfaces slowly, lyrics falling from his parted lips so quietly that they’re almost under Darren’s breath.

  


“ _...tonight with words unspoken, you said that I’m the only one._

_But will my heart be broken,_   


_when the night meets the morning star…_ ”

  


Chris stirs and Darren freezes.

  


“Don’t stop,” comes the murmured protest, muffled by the sheets. Lashes blink open and bright blue eyes stare back at him, slow and drowsy.

  


“Sorry I woke you,” Darren whispers, pushing back the hair from Chris’ forehead.

  


“S’okay. Wanted to anyway, I passed out before I could even brush my teeth.”

  


Darren winces. “Feeling any better?”

  


“Yes, now that you’re here.”

  


Darren bends to kiss his forehead, and Chris nudges at his thigh. “Keep going. I never get to hear your voice anymore.”

  


He holds out a hand for Darren to take, and he does, ring cool against his skin.

  


“ _I'd like to know that your love  
is a love I can be sure of…”_

  


Chris’ voice joins him, warm with sleep.

  


“ _So tell me now, 'cause I won't ask again-_ ”  


  


It does what it always does to Darren. Honeyed and lilting, it curls around his heart and  _tugs_.

  


“ _-will you still love me tomorrow?_ ”

  


Darren counters quietly. “ _Will you still love me tomorrow?_ ”

  


There’s a moment’s silence before Chris whispers, “Always,” and he closes his eyes as Darren lifts his palm to his lips and presses.

  


His eyes stay shut until they squeeze and blink open. “Ugh,” Chris groans. “I really do not have the energy required to brush my teeth.”

  


“Don’t if you’re not up to it. You’re already in bed.”

  


“I need to pee as well.”

  


“Well then,” Darren says, tugging Chris by the hand as he gets up off the bed. “You’ve got no choice.”

  


Chris groans again, and hauls himself up, leaning heavily against him.

  


“Meet anyone cool tonight?” he asks, straightening his crooked sleep shirt.

  


Darren grins as he leads Chris to the bathroom, one hand light on the small of his back, and the other clutched in Chris’ palm.

  


“Oh you would not  _believe_ … ”


End file.
